Heart Is Everything
by BreeSkellington
Summary: Orphaned boy Akira is gorgeous- absolutely stunning, and he's used his looks for sex to get what he needs. After being saved from the streets by a rich family, he is set up as a model, and continues his seducing ways. But when he is sent to Ouran to get a proper education and meets Takashi, it is clear that the strong and silent host wants to save this beautiful boy's broken soul.
1. Chapter 1

Music blared through speaker implanted in bright red walls, caked with body liquids of all kinds. Smoke filtered throughout the room while sweaty men laughed drunkenly at the naked men around them.

A lone boy sauntered into the club with a bag full of makeup by his side. Passing by drunkards who reached for him, he zig-zagged into the 'employees only' room, rolling his eyes at the wolf-whistles behind.

As soon as he walked through the room, he was hit with the smell of different perfumes and sparkly vanities. With a small smile to the dancers around him, he made his way to his personal vanity.

The boy in the mirror was tiny- extremely petite due to malnutrition. Despite his small size, he was so beautiful. His eyes were almond shaped and a brilliant blue, fitted for a little face. His mouth was full and pink, beneath a cute button nose.

The boy in the mirror was stunning. The boy on the other side didn't feel stunning.

"Is that my baby?!"

Akira turned around just in time for a chest to engulf his face. Despite the fact that he could barely breathe, Akira smiled softly at his coworker- Big Cock Cail. If you knew him, the fact that he gave the nickname to himself wouldn't surprise you.

Cail unwrapped his arms from the small boy and pet his head like a little puppy- something Akira often resembled. Behind Cail, the other dancers, all mail, piled around their youngest coworker.

"'Sup?" Akira said to them.

Most of them came up to press themselves against the small boy, but Cail got in their way, maneuvering himself in front of his friend.

"Back off, horn dogs!" he bellowed.

They murmured under their breaths at him and walked away to their own vanities, only a couple staying back to talk to the two.

"So, how was the block yesterday," Cail asked worriedly.

Akira rolled his eyes at his friend. "You worry to much. It was the same as it's been for the past year and a half- busy."

"You know," Cail started, but didn't get to finish.

"I'm not going to live with you, Cail. I don't want to do that to you."

His friend huffed. "So you'll just waste away in the orphanage- spending your days on the streets and your nights in here?"

Akira smirked at his friend. "Why not?"

"Because all those creepy men are here to see you! YOU: the underage, beautiful teen who doesn't belong in here with those nasty people!"

"I let them fuck me, Cail," he mused. "Why not dance for them?"

Cail rested his arms around Akira's neck. "You poor boy- what can I do to make those sex addicts keep their hands off of you!?"

"You can't," he mused. "I'm hot."

A hand rested on his ass. "That you are," a deep voice rumbled.

Everyone jumped and faced their boss- Mr. Sweets. He stood behind Akira, one hand on his ass and another tracing down his face.

Cail grabbed Akira and put him at his side. "You watch it, Sweets! Aki here is gonna get out someday- he doesn't need you grabbin' at him like that."

"Gonna get out someday, huh? I doubt it," Mr. Sweets smirked. Akira crossed his arms and gave his boss a seductive look.

"What, Sweets? Wanna keep me all to yourself?"

He responded by grabbing the boys arm and bringing him forward, pushing the small boy to his front. Akira shivered in disgust at the feeling of Mr. Sweets' arousal poking his stomach, but hid it well.

_Money, Akira,_ he told himself. _Do anything for money- money is everything._

So instead of freaking out like he would've, Akira let his small hands wander down his boss's trousers. Mr. Sweets gave a loud groan, erection growing by the second.

Several of the dancers had stepped forward to get a better view of the show, each sporting their own arousal. Akira could already tell by the way the room started getting muskier.

"So," he drawled, leaning in to Sweets' ear. "How about it?"

"How about what?" Mr. Sweets' moaned.

Akira licked the outside of his ear slowly. "How about keeping me forever. It'll cost you."

Sweets growled and stepped back, watching as Akira did the same, a smirk etching out the young boy's features. "You little minx."

"Ah-ah-ah," Akira chided, his hands in the air. "House Rule Number One: Never Touch The Dancers."

The bell signalling a new dance sounded, letting everybody know that the club had just opened. Sweets watched with mild interest as everyone flew to their vanities, time lost watching Akira's brilliant performance.

"See ya soon, Sweets," Akira chuckled, walking to his seat. But the boss wasn't done with him yet.

Sweets placed his arms around the boy, hands resting in Akira's crotch. He squeezed, satisfied with the moan leaving the young boy's mouth.

"See me in my office after the show," he growled before leaving.

Cail waited until the door closed behind his boss to sit next to Akira, putting on his own makeup. He watched as the young man busied himself with powders and eye liner.

"You okay?" he asked.

"No" Akira answered emotionlessly. "But there's nothing I can do about it."

"Why?"

Akira set down his hands for a moment, looking ashamed, before shaking off the expression. "I need the money."

Cail slumped. "I know that feeling, Aki. Everyone here knows that feeling. We all need money. But Mr. Sweets is our boss- not out master. You don't have to do this."

"He'll fire me."

"Then get a new job- get a better job," he said impatiently.

"And do what, Cail!?" he suddenly yelled. "I don't have any skills! I'm fifteen! The only people who will hire me are Mr. Sweets and my pimp. I can't do anything else and I'm not good for anything else!"

The room was silent, everyone letting his words sink in, Akira sat down in his seat, sighing before putting on his concealer.

"At least," he heard from behind him. "You're not alone."

Akira looked at the cross-dressing barracuda, Mimi. "Yeah. You're right. I have you guys at least."

The cross-dresser smiled and ruffled the boy's long, silvery locks. "Wanna share the corner tonight?"

There was a couple seconds of silence before Akira offered his best smile- something people other than the dancers rarely saw.

It would be sad to other people that Akira was offered to share a corner. But to the inside- that was the biggest kindness. There were a couple dancers that went to "night jobs" as some called them, but rarely did they talk about it.

The fact that Mimi had offered Akira a spot next to him was... bigger than anyone on the outside would think.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. The other place is right behind a meth house- I get all the tweakers calling on me 24/7."

"I'll wait for you after work."

The door to their left opened, revealing the Bouncer and Enforcer. "Akira," he said. "You're on."

Everyone watched as the young boy tore away his clothes, leaving him in a skimpy little piece of underwear. Some visibly aroused while other watched sadly as the extremely underage dancer made his way to the stage.

"Please welcome to the stage, your very favorite, the not-so-sweet Angel!"

Akira stepped onto the stage, with his famous smirk before beginning his dance, ignoring the wolf whistles and hollers from the crowd.

_Money, Akira, _he told himself. _Do anything for money- money is everything._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter Two: Sweat and Memories_**

**_Summary: After a long night of sweaty dancing and horny men, Akira retreats to his room, only to encounter Daisuke Ichirouta- a _**

**_man who may hold the key to Akira's escape._**

* * *

It was a white Christmas, on the day Akira's parents died.

A trail of red led into an alley- the moon highlighting each little droplet. The trail of crimson suddenly stopped, and moonlight fell onto the figured of two people.

A large man had a younger woman wrapped in his arms. They were both breathing heavily, knives sticking out of various positions of their abdomens. The couple was sitting against a building, trying to make sense of their dilemma.

"Mama... Papa..." a boy cried. He came out from behind a trashcan and ran to his parents' side.

"A-...kira..." his mother gasped, placing a hand on his face. Blood stained his cheek as her slender fingers fell.

"Son..." his father whispered.

Akira nudged them. "Please get up... Please get up!"

"S-sorry, Aki..." they said in sync.

Akira shook his head furiously. "No don't go! What am I supposed to do? What do you want me to do!?"

"Stay... strong... my baby," his mother whispered, tears falling down her face. Her husband wanted to reach up and wipe them away, but he was too weak. He settled with capturing her hand in his.

"But, mama, you have to get up! You have to! Please! Daddy, help her! Help mama get up!"

"Sorry, son, but I'm here to stay, as well."

Akira shook his head. "No."

"You listen up," his fatehr commanded, his throat dry and cracky. "You need to get strong now. We won't be around. You have to be strong, Akira..."

"Be... strong..."

The darkness of the room engulfed Akira to the point where he couldn't see in front of his face. It was hard to breathe, so he decided to use his mouth, though even that was a strain.

His hands were tired, and his body felt exhausted. Akira just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. But, he couldn't. Not in the Montochelli house. To sleep was to die in this Mafia home.

Small and nimble, Akira's fingernails raked up and down the chest of the squirming man beneath him. Said man bit his lip and forced Akira down to his level harshly.

"I'm done waiting," he moaned. "Suck me."

Akira smirked at him. "Yes, master."

He bent down, leaving a trail with his tongue down the man's chubby belly. He shivered under Akira and hardened against his chest. His hands sensually undid the client's pants, pulling them past his groin before Akira grasped his erection, letting my tongue glide over his head.

"Jesus, Aki!" He yelled, sheets fisted tightly.

Akira giggled, liking his writhing, and removed his tongue from his erection. "Do you like that, master?"

"Don't tease me, boy."

Another playful chuckle left his lips. "Yes, master."

A sickeningly dark feeling filtered into Akira's heart as he clenched his fists into the blanket, next to his client. It was all too familiar- this feeling of wanting to run away.

Knock it off, Akira, he yelled at himself from inside. You have to do this... for the money.

The car came to a rocky start on the side of the road, in front of an all-too-familiar building. Vincent looked over at Akira from his spot and smirked.

"Same time tomorrow," he commanded.

Akira leaned over and licked the side of his neck. "Sure thing, baby. Have my cash ready."

His body shook with a groan. "You're so fucking hot right now."

"See ya!" the teenager yelled, opening the door and skipping out, swaying his hips from side to side to get a rise out of a regular client.

The mobster shouted, but Akira could tell he was utterly turned on.

As he skipped across the street and opened with big gates, the Orphanage's side came into view. Akira growled at it openly and continued inside.

The Orphanage is an old building, made up of stone and concrete and a dull grey color. Though spacious, the gardening was poorly done and the decor was sad. The inside was a little homier, but the cramped space was packed with children.

Akira made his way passed the wandering little tykes, occasionally moving one or two out of his way on the track to his room.

Akira's room was on the second floor, in the way back since he was older than most of the others. He opened the wooden door and sighed at his roomate- a tiny boy who kept to himself. Little Tetsuya absolutely hated Akira for whatever reason.

"Hey," Akira greeted cashually, flopping down on his bed.

Tetsuya, the five year old asshole, scoffed. "Can't you at least take off your shoes?"

"No."

The simple answer made Tetsuya growl and stomp away, slamming the door in the process. Akira smirked and reached underneath the mattress of his bed for his cigarettes and a lighter.

He lit the Marboro and stuck it in his mouth, sucking and blowing the smoke in a way that was familiar to him. The taste of nicotine stuck in his mouth, and he smiled at the feeling of the smoke invading his lungs.

"You know those are bad for you, right?"

The sudden voice made Akira jump, but only slightly, before he calmed his heart and looked over his shoulder to see a man in a business suit standing in the doorway.

He was attractive- that was for sure. He had long black hair, to the nape of his neck, styled perfectly. His face was carved to perfection, and the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added to the beautiful man.

But his beauty wasn't fazing Akira- he'd seen it all... he'd fucked most of it.

"And you might you be?" he asked in a tired voice.

The man chuckled and stepped in from the door. "My name is Daisuke Ichirouta. I hope I'm not inturrupting anything."

Realizing that this 'Daisuke' person wasn't just going to leave, Akira propped himself up on his elbows and turned to look at him.

"You are. Business hours are over. I'm off the clock."

The man seemed confused. "Business... hours...?"

Akira sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're a potential client right? I guess no one told you- I work at night. The club's first, and then my street clients."

The man across from his looked utterly flabbergasted before reality set in. Daisuke gasped and rubbed his temples.

"You're a prostitute?"

Akira blinked. "What, you're not here about work?"

Daisuke's eyes flashed up to his. "No..."

"Then why are you here?"

"Isn't is obvious?"

Akira groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh get on with it. I'm not up for games. Are you here for a fuck or not?"

"Is that...?" Daisuke cleared his throat, suddenly looking sad. "Is that what you really what you call it?"

"There isn't anything else to call it. Truth is truth. You fuck me, pay me, and leave."

"No!" Daisuke snapped. "That's not what I'm here for. And you shouldn't say things like that. You're just a kid, for Kami's sake."

"I'm fifteen- just fine. At least I'm getting money." Akira grunted. "And why am I explaining myself to you? If you're not here for a-"

"Just say... something else," Daisuke pleaded.

"What? Oh fuck it," Akira sighed. "If you're not here for a good time then why are you here?"

Suddenly, Daisuke Ichirouta looked formal, straightening up. "Well, you're an attractive boy- perfect features and a petite body. You're almost too good to be true."

"And that's supposed to sound like you don't want a f-... good time?"

"... hehe sorry. Um, well, I deal with attractive people. See, I work with a modeling agency. It's my job to find beautiful people and give them the oppurtunities of a lifetime."

Akira snorted. "And I'm next on the list. Is that it?"

"Well.. yes."

"So what, you're here to hire me?"

"No."

Akira grunted and turned on his stomach, glaring at Daisuke. "Would you clarify?"

The man was a confused baby- that much was true to Akira, and it was pissing him off.

"What are you doing here then?" Akria growled.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Daisuke chuckled. Akira was obviously not amused, so he coughed to cover up the obvious laughter and tensed.

"I'm here to adopt you."

* * *

**_Hello All My Lovely Readers!_**

**_Chapter Two Is Up! And There's More To Come!_**

**_To Be Continued..._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: Flashing Lights**_

_**Summary: It's been three years after Akira's adoption, and the boy has moved up in the model business. But has freedom really changed him?**_

* * *

A flash of lights on a green background echoed throughout the room, followed by an array of shouting and commands. People crowded around, computers and televisions set up in a corner of the warehouse.

Akira Okumura posed sexily with his tongue out between his lips, enticing the camera with his legendary "Okumura grin". The cameraman nodded with his own smile, shouting encouraging words and flashing the device.

"That's it, Akira, give me more!"

Akira bent down with his hands on his calves, head tilted to the side. The designer wear on his body clashed and tingled against his peraly skin. The mat of silvery hair on his head sparkled with mock sweat that the makeup artists put on him.

"Yes, perfect! More of that! Yes yes! Just a little more sass! There you go!"

Akira smiled at the camera sideways, flashing a brief smirk over his shoulder before turning again and bending his knees to open his legs. The cameraman nodded in appreciation, as well as the crowd behind him, before continuing the shoot.

Soon, the lights turned back on, and everyone ran to the computers to see the many shots that the famous cameraman took with his trusted lenses. Everyone gasped in awe at the beauty of Akira Okumura, who had been in the business for only a couple months.

Daisuke Ichirouta stood in the back with a troubled look on his face, fingers playing with imaginary chin hairs. Akira ran to his employer/father's side with a blank expression- his usual deal.

Daisuke looked over the young man he came to call son. "Are you sure this wasn't too provocative, Akira?"

The teen smirked. "Sure. You know me, I could care less about skin. Give me cash and I'm fine."

Daisuke bent down unhappily. "Please don't say things like that. You should be wearing skater boy clothes or onesies or something other than that!"

Akira looked over himself. The thin piece of clothe over his chest wasn't that bad to him. the pants that were half long and skinny and other half shot and tight weren't that back to him either. If there was anything that was bothering him, it was the black boots the bit into his ankles.

"Uh... yeah? What about it?" Akira finally asked.

Daisuke sighed in exasperation before deflating. "Really, Akira? You look like a hooker."

The teen smirked. "In case you don't remember, I was a hooker."

The man froze, suddenly remembering, and then the real Daisuke Ichirouta showed himself. Akira sighed and opened his arms up while Daisuke suddenly burst into tears, hugging the boy around the waist and lifting him up.

"MY POOR AKIRA!" he sobbed. "YOU POOR BABY! WHY!? OH WHY!?"

Akira rolled his eyes and pet Daisuke's head. "Oh calm down, you big oaf. It was forever ago."

The grown man looked like a blubbering baby and sadly stared at Akira with tears streaming down his face, comically sniffling away the water. "BUT, AKIRA!"

"U-um," someone said to their right. Both turned to see the cameraman toying with his fingers at the sight of a grown man crying into a teenager's chest.

"Yes?" Akira answered, stepping away with Daisuke, causing the man to blubber all over again.

"Um, we've finished picking the pictures that will be featured on the billboard. Would you like to see?"

"BILLBOARD!?" Daisuke shouted. "AKIRA'S GOING TO BE NAKED ON A BIG SCREEN!?"

"Oh, shut up. I'm wearing clothes," Akira mused. "Now, take me to see the pictures," he ordered, leaving Daisuke behind as he went to the computers.

The head of the team, a woman named Megumi Michiyo, nodded with approval as the boy made his way over. Her experienced eyes had seen a star in him when Daisuke, Akira's manager, brought him in. Michiyo had demanded that Akira do the shoot, and her trust in him wasn't unwarranted.

"Well?" Akira asked with his usual smirk and uncaring eyes.

Michiyo nodded. "You did well for your first shoot with me. I'll be asking you back soon."

"And the pictures?" Daisuke asked, coming up from behind Akira with tears still in his eyes. Akira rolled his eyes as his manager before facing Michiyo, who showed the same amount of annoyance.

"We've decided that there are two we wish to feature. One will be in the article and another on the billboard."

"We'd like to see them," Daisuke said, approaching the screen.

Michiyo game a 'hmph' before turning and letting the two view the pictures. They had decided on two of the most provocative; one where Akira was licking his lips and bending over and another where he was smirking and cocking a hip with a finger out beckoning the viewer forward.

"Nice," Akira mused. "I like that one," he said, motioning to the second. "Where will that be featured?"

"In the article," Michiyo answered. "It's much too sexual for the billboard."

"THANK GOD!" Daisuke shouted, hugging Akira around his shoulders. "You don't need pervy men seeing that all day!" he whined.

Akira pouted, a deep look in his eyes. "But I liked that one," he whispered to himself, but no one heard him. He looked around the room at all of the eyes appreciating the screen. "Who do I have to sleep with?" he mumbled.

Daisuke looked at his young ward with sad and disappointed eyes.

* * *

Megumi Michiyo was a forty year old woman who had dedicated her life to modeling. When she turned thirty, however, she was tossed to the curb by her employers, and she got back at them by starting the most successful modeling company in all of Japan and marrying her biggest client. She was a truly hard-working and strong woman.

And right now, she was on all fours panting like a dog in heat.

"Oh, God yes!" she screamed as a hard cock rammed into her backside. The forty-something woman moaned some more, not caring about her reputation.

Akira smirked from behind her, thrusting as hard as he could into her asshole. "You like that, Michi-chan? You like this teenager's dick?"

She moaned into her teeth. "Oh fuck yes! Harder! HARDER!"

"And if I do?" he asked, stopping and watching her squirm with satisfaction.

"I'll put your favorite picture on the billboard. Now fuck me!"

Akira grinned and started pounding into her again, loving the way he could dominate even the most rigid of business woman. Michiyo's breasts bounced with every good thrust inside of her, and she tilted her head back as she neared her climax.

Akira stopped, and moved his hips from side to side, letting his cock fill her. Michiyo screamed. "Oh my God!"

Akira let out a chuckle. "Will you husband do this to you, Michi-chan?"

She responded with a squeal, shaking her head. "Oh fuck!"

"Are you close, Michi-chan? Tell me what you want."

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Fuck me until I cum!"

Akira smirked and licked his lips. "Yes ma'am," he said, before reeling back and hitting her asshole with full force. Her breasts bounced back and forth, and he turned her around, her back to the mattress and her front facing him.

Akira watched her every facial expression as he moved his cock from her ass to her womanhood, fucking her so hard she felt like she would burst. The woman was about to cum with a vengeance.

Akira heard her moans getting louder and knew she was close. He started moving his hips at alarming speed, making her breath catch in her throat. She let him fast-fuck her until she finally screamed at the air, catching her own breasts in her hand.

Akira road out her orgasm, not even bothering to try and get one himself. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed sex.

* * *

Akira watched as the limousine drove away, a satisfied smile on his face as the door behind him opened.

Daisuke gasped at the room in shambles, only guessing what had happened. There were clothes strewn everywhere, and the bed was moved to a completely different wall than before. The desks were out of place and the boy who used to be fully clothed was standing at the window in all his glory, a smirk on his face.

Daisuke sighed and reached down to grab a silky black robe before crossing the room to Akira and placing it around his shoulders. Akira didn't move from his spot, but let his adoptive father fawn over him.

"Why do you do this?" Daisuke asked in a soft voice.

Akira turned to him with a smirk, but Daisuke could see that his eyes were blank. "Money is everything, Daisuke. That's what I thought before. You know why?"

"I don't really wa-"

"I thought that money was everything because I had none. But now I know different. Money isn't everything. Sex is everything. Sex gives you power; sex gives you what you want."

Daisuke gasped and put a hand over his mouth. "Akira! You don't need to have sex with everyone who doesn't give you what you want!"

"Yes," Akira smirked. "I do. And you know why? Because that's all I'm good for."

Daisuke growled. "No it isn't Aki-"

"Just-!" Akira started to yell, but stopped himself. "Just stop, Daisuke. You... you haven't seen what I've seen. You've never been in want for everything. Hell! You've never needed anything. You don't know what it's like to be granted good looks and to have to use them as soon as you turn eleven. You don't know the horrors of being thrown on the street with nothing but a pair of underwear to cover your body. You don't know what it's like to feel their filthy hands on you whenever you go to sleep."

Daisuke's eyes widened at the mention of Akira's past- something the teenager didn't often talk about. Sighing, he looked at his feet.

"I know I haven't been through the same things as you. But, you don't have to do that anymore! You have money, Akira! You have anything you need or want."

"NO!" Akira screamed, throwing his hands up. "SOMETHING'S MISSING! SOMETHING'S ALWAYS MISSING!"

Daisuke stepped forward to grab Akira into a hug, but the teenager pushed him away. "Akira... let me help you."

"NO! GET OUT! JUST GET OUT DAISUKE!"

"Aki-"

"GET OUT!"

Daisuke breathed heavily, tears escaping his eyes as he leaned against the door to the room he was just kicked out of. Akira was still fuming, and didn't even bother to get his pajamas on before crawling into be, leaving his adoptive father outside the room.

Daisuke himself was a wreck. Even though he'd known Akira for a couple months, the boy had wormed his way into the man's heart. Akira was important to Daisuke as a son was to a father. He felt a responsibility for Akira.

Continuing down one of the many halls of his mansion, Daisuke reached in his coat and brought out a cell phone, putting in the numbers of his best friend and confidant.

The ringing was for a couple seconds before Yuzuru Suoh answered. "Hello, this is Yuzuru Suoh."

"Yuzu-chan," Daisuke whispered. "I need your help."

"Dai? Is that you? Why haven't you been calling?"

Daisuke leaned back on the wall even more, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do..."

"Alright, Dai, calm down. Start from the beginning."

"He's just a kid, he's just a kid and I don't know how to help him."

Yuzuru let out a struggled sigh."I don't understand, Daisuke."

"Yuzu-chan, I want to help him so badly, but I don't know how!"

There was a sound of movement, and a door opening and closing. "That's it, I'm coming over there. And what's this about needing help? What have you gotten yourself into, Daisuke?"

"I... it's about Akira."

"Who's... oh... the boy I've been hearing about. What about him?" Yuzuru sounded more concerned than anything for his friend.

"God, Yuzuru, you wouldn't believe the condition I found him in. He was a whore for God's sake! And I thought it would change when he came here! I thought he could be happy."

"And I'm assuming that he isn't happy then?"

Daisuke put a hand over his face. "I've never seen such dead eyes in my life. I can't help him and I can't stop him."

There was a pause, and Daisuke had a sickening feeling that Yuzuru had abandoned him, but pushed it aside. This was Yuzuru that he was talking about! The man who helped him get on his feet and stop his partying ways when he was a teenager.

"I think I know what we can do. But you can't tell him and he can never know from anyone else."

Daisuke felt like crying and hugging his older friend at the same time. "What is it? I'll do anything."

"It isn't you who needs to do anything. Just enroll him in Ouran Academy. There's a group of young men who I believe can help him themselves."

"U-uh..."

A chuckle echoed through. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

Daisuke sighed and looked behind him at the closed door before pressing the phone back against his ear.

"I trust you, Yuzuru."

* * *

**_Hello All My Lovely Readers!_**

**_Chapter Three Is Up! And There's More To Come!_**

**_To Be Continued..._**


End file.
